


The benefits of silence

by BloomTwist



Series: AkaKise Week 2015 [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaKiWeek, Angst, Haircuts, Let’s get this AkakiWeek started!, M/M, Mentions of weddings, This almost had an angst hostile takeover, a lot of fixation on hands, also the moments are not linear!, and crack, there is also fluff, unexpected angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloomTwist/pseuds/BloomTwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Akashi told Kise to shut up and one time he wanted to hear Kise’s voice and was met with silence.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Day 1 (4/4) → “Shut up, Kise.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	The benefits of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Akaki Week finally starts! /throws confetti
> 
> AkaKise is my guiltiest pleasure. So please bear with me on this. I'm very excited to be participating on this! Also, I am tackling one challenge a day, so many of the entries will be short. 6k tops. I promise!
> 
> I have this headcanon that Akashi either uses first name or last name when one of his personalities had a storng opinion or thought. Even before manifesting. So if you see that he changes from first to last name, it is done on purpose. 
> 
> There is a mention of an accident - but rest assured, there are no major character deaths.

 

 

 **I** High school

 

Akashi first saw Kise during a walk to Teiko’s court. There in the football field was a mixed blood Japanese boy that had potential talent but no drive. _He would do good on the Basketball team_ , he had thought lightly before focusing on his training. He left the notion away and once the blond Japanese guy –Kise Ryouta, a model and sports prodigy with a drive- became part of the first string on Teiko’s basketball team, he went back to look for the notion and burn it away.

Yes, Kise has potential. Akashi can see it on the model’s shadow and is both wary and interested. Yes, Kise has unrestrained drive. Akashi knows it when the boy doesn’t drop dead after training when _Murasakibara_ had taken a rest. Yes, Kise has enthusiasm. Akashi has grown used to the incessant pledges for a one on one with Aomine.

But Kise is _loud and will never shut up._

He is almost like a child. Well behaved when compared to Aomine. Nevertheless, sill a child. He nags, he cheers, he fights, he mocks, he jokes, he challenges – _he never shuts up._ Nijimura is surprised at how his throat never runs dry, and Akashi only wonders how his patience will stand when he becomes the team captain and has to handle the new team addition by himself.

Kise would be a golden retriever were it not for the fact that for all his smiles he is not sunshine and rainbows. Akashi likens his behavior to an overly enthusiastic fox. Well-trained dogs know how to follow orders. Foxes on the other hand only follow those they respect, but are mischievous enough to keep going on other ways to grate nerves.

That’s why when he orders for the twelfth time this month for Kise to just _shut up_ the model complies. His mouth stays closed, but his eyes, his eyebrows wiggles and nags at Aomine as loudly as he was before. As a model, Kise is proficient in body language. Midorima is irritated and Akashi wonders for a moment if he will throw the purple sparkled scissors (today’s lucky item) at the newcomer. He wishes his friend would have the guts.

Haizaki says he is fond of the dumb blond.

Shougo is wrong. He is exasperated by the behavior. It just so happens that his potential is greater than Shougo’s own.

 

 **II** Vorpal Swords

 

It was to the surprise of absolutely nobody that team Vorpal Swords destroyed team Jabberwock. In the past Teiko had been a monster, now with everyone more mature, stable and focused –and with the welcome addition of another equally talented or brilliant player- they could be unstoppable. Right now, they are celebrating on a restaurant managed by the father of Seirin’s manager. The food is acceptable and the merriment of both staff and guests is welcome.

For once, he will tolerate the loudness –Mayuzumi looks gratifying when he tries to act polite in the face of obvious frustration. Even if the victory was expected, they had trained hard and the challenge had brought the possibility of mending bridges between them. Personally, he would have done without the vulgarity of the opponent team. The behavior was displeasing, and so the celebration more than appreciated.

“Whoa! The magazine was right you look really good with this haircut Kise-san!” Kazunari, Midorima’s aide in Shutoku, blabbers once he enters the establishment before wiggling his way between the model and Kaijō’s former captain. None of them seems to mind.

Kise visibly preens at the compliment and then starts a conversation about how great the haircut is and how easy it feels for his head and the many ways he can style it. Akashi is a bit self-conscious of that topic but brushes it off; the celebration is far more important –especially when next week they all will go back to being rivals for Inter High. He catches bits of the conversation here and there though; they are both too loud and enthusiastic.

“I would like to have one as well. My bangs are growing too long. Where did you get it?” from the corner of his eye he sees Midorima’s frown. The topic is deviating to a dangerous territory and Akashi hopes Kise has enough tact to steer it _away_.

“Oh I did not get it-“

“Did you do it yourself?!”

“No it was A-“

“Shut _up_ Ryouta!” Akashi interrupts viciously burying the thread of mortification deep down. He has read the magazines, he knows how well appreciated this new haircut is among Kise’s fans. Yet for a model, the blonde is just too unaware of how everyone would take it if they knew Akashi did it.

Silence descends on the table. In front of him Ryouta blushes violently and Aomine stares.

The red haired teen internally winces when he analyzes the occurrences until his outburst. There is actually nothing between them, save for a closer friendship than what they had in Teiko. However, this came from the knowledge of things that happened between them. Of course, the others would not know what Kise had done during the Winter Cup. For them, the logical conclusion was the implication he had tried to avoid.

If _he_ denied it now –it would look suspicious.

He can feel his face warm and consciously tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible. By the dismayed expression on Midorima’s face he is not fooling anyone. Murasakibara stopped chewing and simply stares at them both, purple eyes unusually sharp before nodding.

Kagami looks as if he wants to ask Kise if he is insane for letting Akashi near his face with a pair of scissors. Rakuzan’s captain takes exemption to that. He would _never_ hurt Ryouta, much less while doing something as private as that.

Of course it is Aomine he one who breaks the silence to poke at Kaijō’s Ace short sight.

“Kise let _you_ touch his hair” he starts looking at the blonde with a face that says he is not proud of his choices. Somewhere Akashi seethes because truthfully, he is not even on the top _five_ of worst choices for Ryouta among the people on the table –and he is _not_ fancying any feelings with the blonde “So. When’s the wedding?”

If the chopsticks don’t nail Tōō’s ace in the face is because Kuroko has the tact of elbowing him in the gut.

 

 **III** When Kise is trimming his hair

 

The snips sounds are close enough to his ears to make him smile. Akashi does not move, sitting in seiza while behind him steady hands keep both pampering and trimming his hair. The lights are on, there is a bowl of warm water next to him, his favorite tea on the sitting table next to him and a soft bamboo carpet beneath them. After twelve years of the same, Akashi understands the rituals. These are Kise’s tools, Akashi’s are different –the result is the same universe of both sensations and privacy. They are sharing an apartment, they had done that since college –even though during that time Reo-ane had been their landlord and now they were living on Kise’s own flat. 

Akashi’s father knows that. He has learned to accept it. Akashi would like to think he is relieved for his son.

Kise’s hands on his hair are warm. The caress is slow, tantalizing and it is not the first time Akashi wonders how is it possible that his beau can make a sensational seduction out of every menial task –like cutting his hair.

This –cutting and trimming each other’s hair- is a habit that started that time he cut his hair during the Winter Cup back on their first year of High school. Akashi had known he had done it on a bout of both frustration and rebel. Even he, dormant as he was, knew his little self’s frustrations. It was as much control he would allow to lose –as much control as they allowed to lose themselves. 

It was accidental that he found Ryouta on the way out. The critical eyes had been expected –the blonde was a model after all, his sense of aesthetic was always strong, even in the court. What he had not, were his words after an unimpressed sigh “Here Akashicchi, allow me to trim your hair”

The proposition had been insulting, and they both made it clear to the ditz. That kind of disrespect would not be tolerated. He respected this model, but not accept his judgement.  “Are you saying I cut it incorrectly Ryouta?

Ryouta had crossed his arms on a clear sign of being uncomfortable, lips pouting on a show of bravado hardly felt and golden eyes shifted from his face to his hair. “Are you implying I don’t have the expertise and grounds to make a truthful statement on your haircut?”

He had conceded that point. Or perhaps he was just befuddled to know the model had used complex words on his speech.  

Ryouta’s hands had been hesitant that one time, and yet, incredibly warm and gentle. It had been a soothing balm. The red haired man would never tell Kise that had been the moment his view of the other had shifted. Akashi was not a man who believed in coincidence or fate, he had expected the possibility of someone stopping his rule- he had never equated that happening outside the court. The soft chatter about how pretty his shade of red was and what products he could use to take better care of his hair was just the background to the slow realization of being accepted even if he lost control. It had felt too much like the few precious memories of his mother. Akashi had left the experience with a complimenting trim, a light feeling and the bittersweet knowledge that Ryouta would overwork his leg and be forced out at least Kaijō’s final game.  

He had returned the favor a month later going straight to Kise’s apartment on Kanagawa after mastering the haircut arts. He could have made an excuse about how Ryouta would need a shorter hair now in order to focus more time on getting his leg back to shape instead of taking more care of a longer hair – he knows he could have made it believable. Yet to see the blonde’s surprised face on his suggestion had been rewarding. That too, had been an experience.

Touching Ryouta’s head for the first time –having control over it- had been humbling. Tetsuya had been straightforward three times about how his social skills were not the norm and that what he should expect from people on the court was nowhere near how people would act outside of it. He understood the core of that complaint was his little self, but Akashi himself had not seen the difference. He understood the notion with blond strands of hair between his fingers.

The trust and comfort had been palpable. There had been closeness too – but Akashi would not know that until a magazine had complimented Kise’s new haircut with the words ‘dashing’ and ‘dangerously attractive’.

“I think I love you” Kise’s steady words brought him out of his reverie and back to the present.

Sometimes it is not the matter of how much Kise’s enthusiastic communicative nature can be – but what he says.

“Shut up Kise” he mutters with embarrassment. Yet he softly takes one hand, enjoys how their fingers entwine, feels the flutter of the pulse beneath his fingers and lays a feather soft kiss on a knuckle “say that to me when you are sure”

“Hmm” Akashi can hear the pout on his voice “Then I will tell Akashicchi after I finish trimming his hair” he muses _tempts_ slyly. The realization takes no time sinking before Akashi is turning and kissing Ryouta with fervor. There is a box on the safety bank that has been waiting patiently for the stubborn man to finally allow himself to say the words. He can celebrate it now.

Hours later Akashi finds it is not comfortable to devour Ryouta while his hair is not finished trimming. Sweat and missed shower opportunities are an enough deterrent to avoid them in the future.

 

 **IV** When Kise finds out Akashi is getting married

 

Kise is currently in Paris Men’s Fashion Week Fall Winter collection. He is doing marvelously well despite being a male Japanese model in that aesthetically sharp industry. Not that he would be surprised, given the equal success of his older sister and the business started by the oldest. The Kise siblings were meant for successful careers in the arts and performance. Something that had been healthfully supported by their parents when alive.

Akashi would like to say the same about his father.

His record is spotless, he is a successful businessman, has appeared on Forbes, Fortune The Economist and Times. He has steered the Akashi Corporation away from the stagnation of Japanese economy and has friends with both success and influence on their respective spheres of careers.

For his father that was not enough. The distaste with the news are enough for him to avoid tea and take up the brandy. He is having the second sip when his phone rings with a melody he knows very well: not the person he wants to talk right now. Not until he has this under control.

Akashi gives in after the third ring.

“I heard from Midorimacchi that you are getting married Akashicchi” Kise’s voice is low but thankfully not hoarse. Yet the fact that he bypassed greetings and went straight to the mater spoke volumes at how rattled he is by the news. He would have liked to break the news by himself, and never expected Shintaro to rat him out so crossly.

“Ryouta…” he sighs trying to calm them both, but Akashi knows Ryouta won’t understand. He is not frustrated at Kise’s words, not even at Kise –he never would and much less over this. He is frustrated at how he had not seen this move and how he had been unable to block it. He is a business heir, and although arranged marriages were in disuse for the general population the Akashi family had always been traditional. Father had married a foreign woman, which was the ground with which he had discarded the idea.

He should never have. 

“Where does this leave us?” the question is soft, but the fear conveyed is a slap to the face. For a moment, he is back to Teiko, back to the exact moment Murasakibara was challenging him, the moment he knew he would lose.

He did not that time. He would not do so now.  

“Unchanging.” He determines with severity “This new occurrence is nothing but an unexpected blunder that must be aborted.” And the statement brings a sense of control he thought gone. This was his life, his private life and he had control on who he allowed or not. He wanted Ryouta, he shared a relationship with Ryouta and he would not let someone step on it. Not this woman and not his father.  

There is static from the other side and Akashi can imagine the relieved sigh, the softening of his attractive face. The image is enough to calm him down.

“What can I do, Seijuuro?” the voice is sure, thick with the relentless determination he was known for in the basketball circles. Just like that, he is back in the field, and the use of his given name is less an intrusion and more an honest sign of support.

Ryouta had only ventured to say it once. A quiet whisper to his ears while his body was spent over the sheets. He remembers it vividly, the warmth of his breath, the hitch on his voice, the sweat drops rolling down his marked neck, the cadence of his heartbeats and the rise and fall of his chest. It had hypnotized.

This one now, soothed. Just like his hands had that one time in High School.

“Just keep quiet for a moment Ryouta” he says quietly, and freezes for a moment at the possibility of Ryouta taking it literally and hanging up –leaving him astray.

Yet, his beau understands and for the next three minutes doesn’t hang up until they speak again.

 

 **V** Wedding Day  

 

Akashi gives one last judgement to his five kamon Haori, and after deciding the clothes are arranged properly he bows to the mirror and leaves. The fabric of the traditional Hakama is exceptional as are the hand painted designs of both _nagajuban_ and the haori lining. It is comfortable, pristine and intimidating. The strong dark colors contrasting with the red embroidery of the Akashi family crest and for a moment he wonders if Kise’s would have his on golden. His had been the gift from both of Ryouta’s older sisters. Then he remembers what this is all for and stops for another minute. This, is all ridiculous. Of course, he had asked Kise’s hand as a symbolic agreement, but again nothing could truly be quiet, private and symbolic affair when their circle of friends were not.

So here he was, wearing a traditional wedding hakama, on a hotel and minutes away from having a Shinto wedding. The hotel has had its staff left with paid vacations, the rooms silenced and booked out on its entirety for five days and nights. There was even a proposal of having a security perimeter –all done to ensure privacy. One of the more evident downsides to have a circle of notoriously successful people. The world media sometimes have a lack of morals and intrude on privacy. Aomine’s paparazzi entourage alone could be enough of a bother without having to add Kagami’s. NBA stars, both of them.

It had actually been Ryouta the one to convince his father. A strategic move Akashi had not seen and still ignored the contents of what had taken place during the meeting. Still he had learned to let unforeseeable occurrences take its flow, as long as the outcome was favorable to him and their relationship. 

Years had made them all wiser. At first there was nothing but tension, father had not disowned him because he was the heir and very protective of the legacy he had built. Akashi had capitalized on that when he decided to break the engagement and explain firmly the grounds as to why he would not accept anyone. His father had mellowed a spot knowing him to be mature and able to guide the corporation excellently.

Akashi had not expected the extent of how _much_. He had to give it to Ryouta; at this point, he was sure the supermodel could successfully endear a volcano. He had thought most of his life his father was unmovable as a rock, but even rocks liked Kise, and so his father had been the first one to congratulate him and strongly suggest for a traditional wedding.

Kise Reiko, Ryouta’s oldest sister, had a profitable textile business and put the effort of several Kyoto kimono houses to bring forth respectable wedding attires once she knew his father desired a traditional wedding. Seijuuro would snort at the notion; there was nothing traditional about this. There was not a Miai, the wedding would not take place in Japan –although the priest was Japanese with a tradition of making symbolic weddings for the same sex, and the temple was a genuine Shinto-, they are both men and the _bride_ –if the ludicrous title ought to be used- is the _older_ of the two.  

He might have slipped to the designer that Shintaro had once worn a kimono to perfection and that such garment was complimenting of his figure. He may or may not have had a hand in making all of the neurosurgeon’s traditional clothes disappear from the hotel –even the spares. There was perhaps a possibility of spiteful relish of seeing him walk wearing such garment on the wedding hall.

It suited him well – if someone suspected anything; they could not prove it. It seems his commendation to Ryouta’s oldest sister would never end.

That and of course decorating the garden and hall. It does feel as if they had not left Japan. He has forgotten three times in two days that they are on a foreign land to get legally married on a symbolic traditional wedding.

It is still a wonder how he has not seen Ryouta’s Hakama –but he has to give his father some credit. He is still a rock, unmovable and implacable with his goals. In addition, Atsushi’s endurance when it comes to keep a secret is commendable. Even Tetsuya was roped into not spill the secret. Kise was very intent on it as well, not letting Aomine see it.

Then he had seen Kise walk into the temple. There was a ghost of a catwalk on his gait and the red haired man would never mind it. He had by no means expected an Uchikake, but the complimentary Hakama in blue colors was both elegant and masculine. He would have to confiscate Kise Shunka’s phone: Ryouta looked sensual enough to eat. He had to give it to him his father had impeccable taste.   

Ryouta was all smiles and shining eyes. He waved enthusiastically in greeting, and even when sitting at his side he was shifting. Even if he was sitting straight, the fingers were drumming against his knees and Akashi could see him revising for a last time what he needed to do in the ceremony. He was practically glowing and the excitement was infectious.

Again, it was too loud.

“I want to kiss you Ryouta.” He muttered softly into his ear and was pleased to know only he heard the daring words “Can we hurry it along?”

 

 

 

 **O** ne time he wanted to hear Kise’s voice and was met with silence.

 

_The number you have reached is unavailable please try again later_

Akashi pays no attention to the automatic electronic response as he walks briskly through Kyoto’s train station to reach platform 30. Never has the building seem so obnoxiously large and stuffed before. It is Five forty five in the afternoon, Kise and his parents had arrived at Kansai International airport at five sharp. He was supposed to meet Kise Reiko (Ryouta’s oldest sister) at platform 30 and wait with her for Kise and his parents. They had planned a family dinner, Kise Shunka (Kise’s middle sister) was in Tokyo and would arrive in Shinkansen after the session was over.

It was all planned until it was not. He doesn’t notice he is breathing hard until he finally finds long blonde hair attached to a tall womanly figure. Kise Reiko is still as a statue in the middle of a mass of worried people. Her eyes are a soft gray instead of the golden all over characteristic in her family, and _worried_. There is no ghost of a smile on her face, and it is so out of character with her pleasant personality that it stops him on his tracks. The moment she notices him she runs, and hugs him tight, _desperately_ tight.

Akashi feels cold. He numbly notices how her hands leave him, and how they stay put on his shoulder for support (of whom?). He barely notices the sound of the news, or the message in the itinerary boards. He had left tea to cool on the upper floors the moment he read them. He had dashed through people the moment Ryouta had not answered his phone.

“There are survivors. Please we ask you to keep calm” the official’s voice is not registering to him at all. He sees the mouth, knows the words and yet he cannot process the information. There has been an accident, and there is no confirmation other than _some survivors_.

Next to him, Kise-anee’s face breaks and starts to cry. It is ugly and raw and Akashi feels helpless on what to do next because if he speaks he will break, and if he keeps looking at that face he will memorize it –it will override any memory he has of Ryouta. His hands do not tremble, but his fingers are sluggish when they dial the number again.

Ryouta will answer his phone

 _The number you have reached is unavailable please try_ –

Ryouta has to answer his phone

 _The number you have reached is unavailable please_ –

Ryouta has to

 _The number you have reached is unavail_ –

Ryouta needs to be alive

 

(He is. Akashi won't know that for another Thirty two minutes) 


End file.
